Shattered
by brittanaforreal
Summary: Ever since Brittany chose Sam, you've been living as the broken shell of the person you used to be.


**So, so sorry I haven't been able to update Teen Wolf. I'm working on the new chapter now. But here's a one shot to hold you guys off till then. This just wouldn't leave me alone, so here you go. My first one shot :) Review and enjoy.**

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You don't know how you got to this point. The point where you're standing on the outside looking in. The point where you're watching the love of your life slip away and fall right into someone else's arms. It's unfolding right before your eyes, and before you can stop it she's already gone.

You have no idea where to go from here. Every road you've ever imagined somehow involved her. But now that's done and over and your chances are gone. You wish you never would've ended it in the first place. You wish you could open your eyes and realize it's all a great big nightmare. But try as you may, there's no waking up from this nightmare. It's real and in front of you and holding you down like a thousand pound weight chained to your heart.

Everything feels heavy and grey. You feel bruised and battered and like you've just been thrown into a boxing match with Floyd Mayweather. There's no waking up from this nightmare. You can't bare to watch them together. The brush of her shoulder's against his, the hand he rests on the small of her back that pulls her into him. It's an act all too familiar. You two used to be like that. And somehow, you've let it slip through your fingers like tiny grains of sand.

It was an instant reaction, your falling apart. You watched from across the choir room as she lay her head on his shoulder and he pressed his overly-sized lips to her golden hair. You can feel your lip quiver, and the lump you try to swallow stay lodged in your throat. You wonder why you even came back here. After you moved to New York you figured you could just get over her- that time would work its magic and help you forget the worst heartbreak you've ever had to expierence. You had hoped that time could help you forget the one true thing you've ever known. Unfortunately, though, things don't work that way and it's definitely not that easy. You know that for sure.

And as you watch them, you feel your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You see Quinn out of the corner of your eye, and she's watching you intently- like she's waiting for you to fall apart and she's ready to pick up the pieces.

Ever since your hook-up with her at Schue's not-so-wedding, the two of you have grown much closer. After making it a three time thing, you crawled up the bed beside her and wrapped your arm around her. But when you looked into her eyes, you broke. They weren't blue, and they didn't belong to the blonde you _desperately _wanted. And you just cried. You cried for a long time and Quinn held you and she understood. She understood that you were broken. She understood that you were hurt, and you were just the shell of the person you once were.

You never thought that someone could break you- that someone could leave you and take such a large part of you with them that you don't even know who you are anymore. And you definitely didn't think the person that took it all away from you could be the person you love most in the world. It's a crushing feeling, knowing that the one person that was supposed to love you the most just doesn't. It's sad, but you've learned it to be true.

You stare across the room at her longingly, ignoring the way that Quinn is looking at you. She's looking at you like she feels sorry for you, and you don't need that. You don't want anyones sympathy. You don't need people to make you feel more pathetic than you already know you are.

The sinking feeling in your gut feels ten times heavier when Brittany's eyes catch yours. She knows. She knows that you feel broken, and sad, and completely helpless. You've been thrown back and forth and tossed around by her so many times that you feel like you've just stepped out of a washing machine. You're like a rag doll. But despite it all, Brittany knows you. She knows the pained look in your eyes and can tell by your furrowed brow that it's killing you to be in the same room as the two of them. So you break the intense gaze and look to the floor, wiping away the lone tear that began to slide down your cheek.

Your mind drifts back to the day you broke up with her. It was a choice you had come to make after that night at Breadstix. The night she let you know just how unhappy she really was. And you couldn't do that to her. You wouldn't let yourself be the reason she feels like shit, even if she's the reason you feel like shit now. But you're so in love with her, that it doesn't even matter how you feel. As long as she's happy, which she clearly is.

Yet, you still don't understand. You just can't get it through your head why she would choose him over you. You had given her everything. You tried to be everything she needed. You put her first, always- hence the breakup. But it clearly wasn't good enough for her. You just didn't give her the things she apparently needed. And maybe that's why it hurt so badly. Because you gave her everything and it wasn't enough.

Most the time you've been in New York has been spent curled up on the couch in Bushwick over-analyzing everything that's ever happened between the two of you. Everywhere you go, everything you see, it reminds you of her- it reminds you of the distant ache you feel in your chest that has now become a regular part of your day.

You have all of these pent up emotions and feelings that you have yet to deal with. Brittany promised that none of this would change the strong, unique friendship that the two of you share, but inevitabley, things between the two of you have altered. Sometimes, you'll see your phone light up with her name on the screen or you'll get off of work to find a text from her, but you just can't bring yourself to reply. You even type out a response, or dial her number, but you just can't push yourself to hit send. You almost do, but you really don't want to know what's going on in her life because it hurts to think that you aren't a part of it anymore. Quite frankly, it hurts to think about her at all anymore.

You can feel two sets of eye bore into you, and you set your jaw and straighten your posture. When your eyes drift back upward, you can see that Brittany has distanced herself from Sam and you're grateful for that. At least she still cared enough about you not to put you through watching that. It made you sick to your stomach to watch them be overly-lovey, and you try your hardest not to let that weakness show. But when Sam smiles at her and takes a hold of her hand in his, you lose it. That's your hand to hold, and more than that, that's your soulmate. And you know it's stupid, but you stand up so fast you almost knock the stool you were sitting on back into the piano.

You smoothen your dress out and bolt for the door, not even giving anyone a second glance. You can feel all eyes on you from your little outburst and push the choir room door open and step into the empty halls of McKinley. The abandoned hallways and the distant echo of your boots against the linoleium give you a sense of relief. You're out of that damn room and finally alone; you can let the tears fall freely now. It's after four, so you know no one will be in the halls at this time.

You never thought you'd ever say that you missed high school, but you definitely do. Things were easier in high school. You were the top bitch, and you ruled. You had everything that you could of ever wanted but the summer after graduation was when real life gave you a nice slap in the face. It was a rude awakening, you finally figured out that things don't ever really stay the same. Expecially in the real world.

You glide your right hand across the cool metal of the locker doors and take slow, deep breaths to try and calm yourself. It's no use. You just pass your old locker and the memories. Memories of happier times when things were easier, but then life stepped in and ruined everything. Quinn says you're a pessimist for thinking like that- that things do get better- but you know you're just being a realist. Seeing things for what they really are.

You feel numb to everything now, and you round the corner to the bathrooms in an instant. It's like a reflex to run there. It was like your go-to place throughout high school. And thankfully, some things never change. As you push through the heavy, red door, you're met with a light scent of Pinesol and the hum of the flourecents above you.

Your reflection in the mirror looks like you. You're the same Santana, at least on the outside. Same mocha brown eyes, same dark, wavy locks and the same crease in your forehead that's been there since October. Kurt tells you that your face is gonna get stuck like that. You want to scream at yourself, you want to tell yourself to get over it- that she's not yours anymore. But then your chin quivers, lip shaking, and you frown.

The tears flow freely now. You don't even try to stop them. You just press your hands to the counter top and grip to the edge of it tightly. Violent sobs wreck your body, and you try to muffle them by clapping one hand over your mouth. It was a pointless attempt, and you give up trying to hold back your whimpers. You're used to crying now, considering the fact you've been crying yourself to sleep since you got to New York. You hear the creak of the door opening, and you curl into yourself. You assume it's Quinn, and the footsteps keep approaching closer. You can hear the tap of her feet. You feel a warm body slide in behind you, but you don't look up. Quinn has already more of you in the past couple weeks then she did your entire high school friendship. You don't want her to Quinn to see you like this, even though she has before.

Well, you think it's Quinn until you feel the person's front press against your back and hands slide down your arms to cover yours in some kind of weird and reversed hand hold. The smell of lavinder and Dior Poison fill your nose and your body tenses up. It's not Quinn, it's Brittany. The last person you want to see right now is holding you while you cry. And you can't deny how much you missed being in her arms like this, even under the circumstances. That thought alone makes you cry a little bit harder.

You squirm in her arms, fighting against the body trapping you against the counter, but she's too strong. She always has been and you finally just turn around and give her a gentle shove. You just can't bear to be near her knowing that she belongs to someone else. Brittany's wide blue eyes stare at you, and you meet her gaze for a moment. You try to side step around her, but her arm catches your waist and pulls you back into her. She wraps her arms around you completely and you wrestle and fight and even swing a few elbows, but Brittany's firm grip remains.

"Brittany, please." You plead with her as tears drip down your hot skin.

"I'm sorry... I'm so, so, sorry..." She whispers over and over again into your hair. You eventually stop fighting. You give up the fight and melt into her embrace. You both sink to the floor, Brittany taking you into her lap and rocking you back and forth as you cry. She keeps whispering sorrys and you let her. Maybe you're a masochist, but you need her like you need air and so you just let go. You let the only person who ever had the power to break you- the only person that ever did break you- hold you together.

_Fin._


End file.
